Alphabet Drabble
by Girl in a White Dress
Summary: A series of drabble in response to a challenge at graveshiftcsi. GC!


Disclaimer: The characters don't belong to me. The characters don't belong to me. The characters don't belong to me. ::sigh::

* * *

Anniversary

Two strangers, each lost in thought, collide on a rainy night. He catches her as she stumbles, apologizing even as she begins to laugh. He invites her for coffee and they end up in a diner, sharing fries and listening to the rain. Five minutes after they sit down, he's in love.

He takes her back to their diner, years later, and smiles when she realizes the significance. They occupy the very same table, order a plate of fries and listen to the rain.

When he opens a tiny velvet box and shows her what's inside, she smiles and nods.

* * *

Bells

This time around, everything is perfect. Instead of a cocktail waitress and blackjack dealer, the witnesses are her friends. Instead of wrinkled jeans and a dirty blouse, she has a white dress with a veil. She carries a bouquet of roses and Lindsey is a beautiful bridesmaid.

This time around, she walks down the aisle sober, and the pianist can actually play the piano. The butterflies in her stomach are from excitement, not because she has morning sickness at the strangest times.

This time, she hears chapel bells, not the sound of slot machines. This time, she's hit the jackpot.

* * *

Catnip

Something about her shampoo drives him wild. Or maybe it's the way she's smiling; sprawled on the couch, a 'come hither' look in her eyes. Maybe it's the full moon. Maybe it's that they're still newlyweds and he can't get enough of looking at her, touching her, kissing her.

Or it could be that she's slowly undoing the buttons on her blouse.

Or that she's not wearing a bra.

He decides to play it cool and pretends he's unaffected. It's a game for them: who will break first?

She smiles. He remembers that Lindsey's sleeping out.

He reaches for her.

* * *

Daddy's Girl

She's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. It surprises him that he can love her so much when he's only known her for a minute. She's tiny and pink and her face is scrunched up – he discovers she has a very healthy set of lungs.

He's almost afraid to hold her, this creature that is half him and half Catherine.

He turns to his wife. He has never loved her more than he does now. He kisses her. "Thank you."

The doctor looks at him and he grins, the epitome of a proud papa.

"Amy Elizabeth Grissom," he says.

* * *

Elementary, My Dear Grissom

"Elementary, my dear Grissom."

"What?!"

"Hey, you quote Shakespeare all the time. Can't I quote Sherlock?"

"Misquote Sherlock. Shakespeare was a real person. Sherlock Holmes is just a character."

"Spoilsport."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not – What were talking about again?"

"My superlative investigative skills."

"Right. And this made you decide you were Sherlock Holmes?"

"I—"

"Cath?"

"Yeah?"

"I think I have a better use for your 'superlative investigative skills'."

"Oh?"

"I have an itch."

"An itch?"

"More of a tingle than an itch, you know?"

"Mm-hmm. Here?"

"Lower . . ."

"Here?"

"However did you guess?"

"Hehe. Elementary, my dear Grissom."

* * *

Fragile

He was fine. Nothing was wrong. One minute he was standing there, laughing at Greg's stupid joke and the next, he was on the floor struggling to breathe.

A heart attack, the doctor says. Nothing serious. This time.

She panics. It hits her: he could have died.

Oh God, what if he'd died?

She holds his hand, presses kisses to his forehead and apologizes for crying all over him.

She tells him not to scare her like that again, that if he leaves her, she'll kill him. He laughs and demands a proper kiss. She's relieved he's okay.

This time.

* * *

Green Eggs and Ham

The house is too quiet. He goes upstairs and hears a low murmur from Amy's room. The baby laughs (she's three now, he thinks, he should stop calling her 'the baby').

The door is open just a crack. Lindsey's sitting on the carpet, one of Amy's Dr. Seuss books open in front of her. Amy kneels next to Lindsey and points at something on the page.

"Uncle Warrick!"

Grissom hides his laughter, not wanting to give himself away.

"No, silly." Lindsey shakes her head, pulling Lindsey onto her lap.

He smiles, thinking he could happily watch his girls all day.

* * *

Heavier

"I'm sorry."

She shakes her head; right now she's not interested. She just wants to be alone.

He tries again. "Catherine."

She gets up, crosses the room and closes the bathroom door behind her. Slowly unbuttons her blouse. Unclips her bra.

Looking at her breasts in the mirror, she can't see which one is going to kill her. The left one seems heavier but she can't tell if it's just her imagination. Before she went to the doctor, they felt exactly the same.

He's behind her suddenly. "I love you."

In his hands, her breasts weigh the same.

She cries.

* * *

Imaginary

Snappy is three feet tall and purple. He goes wherever Amy goes. They've been friends for as long as Amy can remember.

She comes home from her first day of school in tears. Grissom holds her on his lap as she tells him how the other kids laughed at her.

"They said I was stupid 'cause Snappy isn't real. But he is. Right, Daddy?"

She looks up at him, teary-eyed. He nods solemnly.

"Maybe Snappy didn't show himself to the other children because he only wants to be your special friend."

When she smiles, he feels like he's won something.

* * *

Just Because

It starts with a single red rose in her locker. When she goes to thank him, he's not in his office. Warrick says he hasn't seen him but she knows he's lying.

Sunrise brings more flowers and smug smiles from her colleagues. They know something she doesn't, but none will spill the secret.

Grissom is still conspicuously absent.

She returns to a surprisingly quiet house. They girls have already left for school but Grissom's car is in the driveway.

There's a gift-wrapped box on the bed. Smiling, she opens it. "What's the occasion?"

Grissom appears in the doorway. "Just because."

* * *

K-I-S-S-I-N-G

"I miss my real father," Lindsey writes in her diary. She glances at the photo on her bedside table and smiles.

"But I'm glad Mom married Gil. They're good for each other and I love him like he's my dad instead of just Amy's. He and Mom are cute together. I got home from school today and they were sitting next to each other. Holding hands. I didn't know they still did that kind of thing. That's true love. When you get past all the kissing and stuff, but you can still hold hands. I hope I get that lucky."

* * *

Luminescence

It's a rare night off. The girls are with their grandmother (Amy's excited to practice her sign language).

Grissom has plans to spoil Catherine. He takes her to dinner at Carlo's, an Italian place. He's had reservations for three weeks. He knows she loves fancy restaurants, loves it when he treats her like the center of his world.

Because she is.

Tonight she is radiant, healthier than she's been in a long time. He holds her close as they dance, her face buried in his neck.

He cannot ask for more than this: Catherine, alive and happy in his arms.

* * *

Meant To Be

Sometimes Sara looks at them and can't help wondering, if it were she instead of Catherine, what it would be like. She was over Grissom a long time ago – she knows she isn't right for him – but she wishes she could find a love like theirs.

In the meantime, she's happy to be part of the family (and, in Amy's words, her 'fairy godmother').

It doesn't hurt anymore to see Grissom smile at Catherine. It's not the end of the world if she doesn't see him every day.

Because she's older now and she knows it wasn't meant to be.

* * *

New

She's amazed, even after all this time, that she still gets butterflies in her stomach when he smiles at her. She thought it would pass, thought the heady rush of new love would fade until they were just comfortable.

They are comfortable, but it still feels new. She's beginning to think it will always be like this.

She hopes so.

She wonders how she ever got so lucky and prays that her daughters will find the same good fortune. She smiles; if they choose someone even half the man Gil Grissom is, they'll be blessed. What more can she ask?

* * *

Other People's Children

It could be Amy or Lindsey lying dead on the ground, but it isn't. Every time Grissom is on a case involving children, he sends a silent prayer heavenward, thanking God that it's not one of his girls.

These cases always feel personal and the worst part comes when he has to tell the grieving parents that there is not enough evidence to solve the case.

No, he thinks. The worst part is when the evidence points to the parents. He doesn't understand how or why – he doesn't want to. He can think of nothing worse than losing his family.

* * *

Parlez-vous francais?

There's a French exchange student in Lindsey's class. His name is Jean-Luc and Lindsey is besotted. Catherine isn't sure if it's because, "Jean-Luc is, like, totally gorgeous, Mom," or because he's foreign. Lindsey has always liked what is different.

Catherine worries sometimes, though. Lindsey has been through so much in her life; how is it possible that she came out of childhood unscathed?

She graduates in May. In September she's off to UCLA, too far away for Catherine's liking. It is almost enough to break her heart.

But that's still months off, so she smiles. "Tell me more about Jean-Luc."

* * *

Q&A

"Mom, where do babies come from?"

Catherine's in the kitchen, preparing dinner. She freezes, her hand on the vegetable knife. Amy's seven now, more inquisitive than ever. Catherine runs through various answers and eventually settles on the easiest one.

"Go ask your father."

"He told me to ask you."

Catherine briefly debates using the knife on her husband (she's been through this with Lindsey already, she thinks). Then she remembers Amy's been going to Sunday school with a friend. Turning to her daughter, she smiles and takes the easy way out again.

"They're from God."

"Okay. But, Mom, what's sex?"

* * *

Rosie

It's Amy's first encounter with death and she's heartbroken. From the moment she'd met Rosie, they had adored each other. Now Amy sits on a couch and sobs into a pillow.

Catherine strokes her hair and rubs her back. It hurts her to see her child in so much pain.

"Rosie's in heaven, right, Mom?"

"Yeah."

Amy straightens and wipes her tears away. "I'm ready for the funeral now."

She takes Catherine's hand and they go to the backyard. She watches, her bottom lip trembling, as Grissom carefully places the shoebox in the ground.

"I love you, Rosie," she says.

* * *

Sixteen

Another night off. The girls are at home and he's taking his wife on a date. As they stand in line outside the cinema, she whispers that she feels sixteen again. He smiles and files it away for later reference.

Inside the theater, he slings his arm across her shoulders and pulls her closer. She giggles when he puts his other hand on her leg and slides it up.

"Gil! What are you doing?"

"Being sixteen," he mumbles into her neck.

"Okay, but you can't go past first base."

"Catherine—"

She laughs. "Alright. Does this mean we're going steady?"

* * *

Tourniquet

She was supposed to be in remission. The doctors said the cancer was gone. He thought she'd beaten it.

He can pinpoint the day she got sick again. Something unnamable changed. He's scared.

Because she's tired of fighting and he needs her to fight. She's lost all her beautiful hair. She's skinnier than she used to be. Lindsey's trying hard to be strong but he knows how difficult it is. Amy's stopped talking, she hardly eats, and he's afraid she'll follow her mother into the grave.

The grave.

Oh God.

He can't lose both of them.

"Fight, Cath. For me."

* * *

Underneath

The doctors assure him they've removed the last of the tumors. They sound less certain when he asks if this remission will last.

He watches her sleep. Her hand is tiny and fragile in his and his heart breaks. This disease robbed all of them. Lindsey didn't go to LA, Amy had to be hospitalized and he was reminded over and over how powerless he was.

But when she opens her eyes and smiles at him, he knows it hasn't won.

"Welcome back."

"Gil." She reaches p to wipe away his tears and, because she's feeling better, jokes, "Miss me?"

* * *

Veritas

The truth has always been important to him. More than a job, it was his whole life. Searching for the truth so justice could be served, day after day.

He has a new truth now.

Since Catherine came home from the hospital, he's rearranged his priorities. Both of them are on leave (he's not as concerned that the graveshift is shorthanded as the old Grissom would have been). His wife needs him. His daughters need him.

This is his truth: as long as he has his family, he doesn't care if the rest of the world goes on without him.

* * *

What Dreams May Come

This isn't exactly how she'd imagined her life to be. She was never supposed to get sick. Amy was supposed to be healthy.

Still, she thinks, it could be worse. She could have died.

At least they're still together. Amy's getting treatment ("It isn't right," Catherine wants to scream, "she's just a little girl!"). She's home, she's eating, she's even started to speak again, but they all know she'll never be the same.

Catherine's hair is growing back in soft, wispy curls. She's glad. Maybe it's a sign that everything will be all right.

A girl can dream, can't she?

* * *

Xanadu

It's the one-year anniversary of her remission. We made it, she thinks, and can't explain how.

Lindsey has organized a party and though she doesn't feel like going, Catherine knows there is much to celebrate.

So she smiles and sticks close to Grissom, because she really wants this night to be for family. Someone puts a CD on and Frank Sinatra sings of love.

She sees Amy dancing with Warrick and smiles, because the people here are family. She wraps her arms around her husband's neck and thinks again, we made it.

She is exactly where she wants to be.

* * *

YoYo Ma, and the Art of Apologizing

He will regret the argument as long as he lives. He will always remember the look on Lindsey's face, the tears pouring down her cheeks, the sting of her hand on his face.

"I'm sorry," won't cut it this time.

She's in her bedroom now, playing the cello. It always calms her down.

He has an idea.

Five minutes on the Internet and he has what he needs. He knocks on her door, holding his breath.

The music stops.

"I didn't mean a single word I said. I want you to go out with him. Here. YoYo Ma. On me."

* * *

Zenith

He doesn't much care for Lindsey's husband, but he supposes it's because she's still his little girl. (Amy's not interested in boys yet, to his great relief).

They've come full circle, he and Catherine. He thought becoming a father was incredible, but this is even more so.

Thomas Edward Collins is just three days old and Grissom is already besotted. He thinks he may just forgive the kid's father for falling in love with his Lindsey.

Catherine sits next to him and takes the baby. "I can't believe I'm a grandmother."

He laughs. "You're the sexiest grandmother I've ever seen."


End file.
